You can feel it, brushing up against the edge of your consciousness like a wolf lurking just beyond rim of the firelight. There, always. The shadow, infinite and unknowable. Inconceivably vast.

And all you can do is throw a little more wood on the fire , coaxing the flames just a little higher, a little warmer -- all the while trying your best not to look at it. To pretend it isn't there.

Oh, but it is. The infinite, crushing, suffocating boredom will always be there, following you like a shadow. Watching. Waiting. Always there, always ready.

Here. Take them. Your cool pics to throw to the flames of perception, to stave off grappling with your existential angst just little longer.